


Stress Relief

by Fabrisse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John needs a shag.  So does Sally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

Sherlock looked at him as he came to the end of his monologue over the body, and John nodded.  
He'd taken extensive notes and knew his next role was deeper research to be done at home. "Time line?"

Sherlock said, "I don't think we need to worry about another body. You have surgery in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Sherlock strode off in a whirl of coat. 

John walked over to Lestrade. "Need my notes?"

"Got my own. Once you've typed yours up, email them."

John said, "Probably be tomorrow before…"

Lestrade smiled tightly. "If we're not expecting another body. It can wait."

John said, "Ta," and walked out to find a cab.

"I've checked, you know," Sally Donovan said. "There are at least three stamp collecting clubs near you and two for coins."

John picked up his pace as he went past her. A hand clasped his shoulder and he spun pinning his attacker against the wall. He loosened his arm from her throat and said, "Sorry," in a tone that was completely unapologetic.

Donovan said, "See what living with Sherlock Holmes does?"

John chuckled without any real emotion. "You think that was because of _Sherlock_?" He shook his head, leaned forward, and whispered. "Do you know what hobby I really miss, Sergeant? Sex. So let me know if you're interested in helping with that little activity." He stepped back and exited the crime scene.

Lestrade wandered over and said, "You really thought grabbing an Army veteran from behind was smart? One who had nearly two years on active duty in Afghanistan? I don't want to see a report on this, got it? You're bloody lucky he pulled back when he realized it was you."

Donovan gave him a brief nod. "You're right, sir. Wasn't thinking about… Doctor Watson just always seems so nice. Y'know, normal."

Lestrade smiled. "I suspect our Doctor Watson might just be deadlier than Sherlock Holmes." He saw her looking blankly at him. "He seems nicer than the next man, but that's because the next man is Sherlock. I seem like a teddy bear next to Sherlock, and I'm sure you know I'm really not."

"No, sir. I'll remember, sir."

***  
There hadn't been another body, and John's research combined with Sherlock's analysis had closed it fairly quickly. Sherlock thought it rated about a three.

"Then why did you take it?"

"Boredom."

John shook his head. "Try to remember to eat something while I'm at the surgery."

"No promises. I'll order Nanking duck for dinner, though, if you like."

"Sounds good."

***  
The next case was a seven.

The murderer was in custody after a chase and a rugby tackle by John. Lestrade and Donovan pulled him off the killer before any serious damage could be done.

Lestrade said, "An ambulance is on the way. Go check him out."

Donovan followed John with her eyes as he walked back to Sherlock and pulled out a pen light.

Sherlock said, "No," but John was in full doctor mode, checking his head where the killer had gotten the drop on him and knocked him out.

"I don't need the hospital. You can observe me," Sherlock said.

Donovan crept closer and heard John answer, "I could, but I don't have any equipment at home if you suddenly show signs of intracranial pressure." He gestured to Sherlock's body. "The rest is just transport, right? So go into hospital and have your fifty-thousand deduction check-up. I don't want this idiot criminal to be responsible for destroying that wonderful brain."

Sherlock glared, started to nod, and winced. "You've made your point."

Donovan saw the ambulance lights and shouted, "Over here!"

There was a bit of a tussle when John tried to ride in the ambulance. 

Sherlock said, "Doctor Watson holds my medical power of attorney."

The paramedic said, "And he can meet you at hospital with copies of the paperwork."

"Go, Sherlock."

Donovan said, "I'll drive John over."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you will. Trading up?"

Donovan's jaw snapped shut.

John smiled and said, "I'll get a cab. Which hospital?" he asked the paramedic.

Donovan said, "It's no trouble, John."

He smiled. "Did you really think I'd prefer trainspotting?"

***  
It was a nasty series of murders. The case was a nine on Sherlock's meter, but even he and John, both of whom had seen their share of gruesome bodies, had needed to swallow their bile at the crime scenes. 

It ended with a capture, though John felt that just killing the bastard might have been more satisfying. He could tell Sherlock was about to make a remark that would cut the tension, suggest getting Chinese or Indian -- and tonight John was going for the vegetarian option, thank you very much -- when he caught site of Mycroft standing at the edge of the police cars. 

Mycroft said, "I'm sorry Doctor Watson, but I must speak to Sherlock alone for once. I'm sure he'll tell you everything, but it can't have been seen to come from me."

Sherlock had his eyes locked on his brother's, but he said, "I'm sorry, John. I'll be home by breakfast."

"Not that you'll eat it," John said. He stepped back from the brothers and headed to the main road.

He walked past Sally Donovan who said, "Let me drive you home."

"Don't you have reports to file?"

"In the morning. Inspector Lestrade told me to get some rest tonight."

John looked around and saw Lestrade wave them off. "Aren't you going to stick around for your boyfriend? Or is his wife back?"

"I haven't been with Anderson in months."

John looked at her appraisingly. "I could do with a lift. Let me call the Chinese take-away on the corner, and you can drop me there." He got into the car.

As she started it, Donovan said, "I thought I might see about helping you out with the hobby you've been missing."

John raised an eyebrow. "Vegetarian all right?"

***  
Donovan reached for the door to the lounge and John shook his head, "My room's upstairs. I'm sure you remember where the bathroom is from one of your many raids."

"What are you doing then?"

"Grabbing something to drink. Beer, soda, or water?"

"Wine?"

John said, "I think Sherlock's been experimenting with the only bottle I know about."

"Beer's fine, then." Donovan grabbed the bag of food and ran up the stairs.

When John entered his bedroom, the food was on the dresser and Donovan was undressing by the bed. "I'm not hungry just yet," she said. "Well, food's not the priority, at any rate."

John watched as her skin was revealed and smiled. "Nor mine, right this minute. Want help?" He put the bottles next to the food. 

"Just want to see you naked, Doctor Watson."

He pulled the jumper over his head and began to toe off his shoes. 

Donovan had slid under the covers and was holding them up for him. Her eyes raked his body. "I should have known you'd be nice to look at. Know what you're doing?"

"I was a soldier. I am a doctor. I really think I do." John started at her shoulders and began mouthing his way down her body letting her gasps and "ahs" tell him what he needed to know about her pleasure. His tongue swirled over her clit and her hands moved to hold him in place. She felt him laugh against her before sucking and swirling and fingering her to shattering. 

"Are you ready for me?"

She nodded and wriggled her back languidly. John grinned as he slid the condom on, barely stopping as he plunged into her wetness. His strokes were slow and sure, giving her time to build again, using the heel of his hand and sucking at her nipples as he helped them both find a good rhythm. He waited until he could feel her tightening before shortening his strokes, rutting for his own orgasm as she bit into his shoulder and cried out her pleasure a second time.

They petted each other down and Donovan chuckled. "Don't know whether it was the medical experience or being a soldier, but, damn, you're good in bed, John Watson."

He kissed her cheek. "I'll expect references. Dinner?"

"I could eat. Food. I'll get around to eating you a little later."

***  
After food and beer and another round of shagging, Donovan said, "This doesn't have to be a one night thing, you know."

"Really?"

"I like you, John. You're fun in bed. We both need a little stress relief. Didn't you have some mates you did that with in Afghanistan?"

John looked at the ceiling. "There's actually less of that than most civilians seem to think. Military discipline goes deep."

The silence stretched for awhile. Finally, John said, "You like me. Fine. If you weren't such a bitch to Sherlock at every opportunity, I might be able to like you back."

"He's a fr…."

John flipped her on her back and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm going to pretend that you weren't just about to call my flat mate, my best friend, and the man who saved my life a freak while you're in my bed."

Donovan flinched. "Fair enough." She stroked his back until he began to relax. "Think we're up for another round?"

John shook his head, ruefully. "Sex makes mugs of us all. Yeah, I'm ready." He pulled her onto his lap and they began to find their way back to arousal. Later, when she was riding him, teasing his senses, they heard the violin from downstairs. John grabbed her hips and thrust up until they were both falling over the edge, giggling like a lunatic.

"What?" Donovan said, giggling a bit herself.

"Did you recognize the tune?"

She shook her head.

"I didn't know Sherlock knew Lady Gaga. 'Bad Romance.'"

Donovan laughed outright. "You know I don't want any kind of romance. It's why I go with married ones usually. Don't need or want a relationship."

"Not offering one. But, yeah, you have my phone number. You can always ask."

"You could ask me, too."

"I'll bear that in mind. Sleep for a bit."

***  
She managed to wake him for one last shag before she headed down to the bathroom. When she emerged, she was dressed and ready to face the day.

The door to the lounge was open and Sherlock said, "Do have breakfast, Sally. John keeps telling me it's important."

"Morning… Sherlock."

"Will Weetabix be all right? There's not much bread left for toast, and I know John will want some with his tea."

Donovan said, "Sure."

"The coffee's instant or we have tea, of course."

"Tea," she said.

Sherlock brought her breakfast to the coffee table and motioned for her to sit down on the sofa.

"You're not having any?"

"No. I'll eat when John wakes up." He peered at her closely. "Don't hurt him and we won't have any problems. I'll stop insulting your taste in men, because, frankly, you've traded up to the best man I know."

"Is this like you and that woman?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No. This is about the fact that you don't affect my relationship with John. If you try, he'll end it."

"You seem confident."

"I am. You asked about The Woman. She said John and I were a couple. She was right, everywhere but the bedroom. So, you can have the bedroom."

Donovan stared at him. "You really believe that. I wonder what Doctor Watson would say if he heard you?"

"Toast, Sherlock?" John said.

"Please. Marmalade if we have it."

"We're out. Lemon curd or raspberry jam?"

Sherlock smiled. "Lemon curd."

Donovan nodded. "Thanks for breakfast, Sherlock. John, thanks for last night. I'll text you sometime."

John came out of the kitchen and hugged her. "I look forward to it."

As Donovan headed down the stairs, she heard John say, "Thanks for putting on a dressing gown. I swear that's why Nancy never came back…"


End file.
